To look for happiness is an eternal game,
When sympathy replaces love for years,
I often make mistakes but take the aim,
And mens attention makes me tread on airs.
My heart stops beating if my hope is dead,
But honeyed by tomorrow which is near,
The main coauthor leads me out of dread,
It is the sun which warms the earth, oh, dear.
My happiness is promised by the life,
That life or following, God knows, I shall not bother,
But I am sure of the sun coauthor,
To give love, happiness to someone is so rife.